


If the Whole World Was Watching

by patchesjames



Category: One Direction (Band), The Voice (Ireland) RPF
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, Nessie Fanfest, girl!Harry, girl!Louis, girl!Niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 04:29:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11305704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchesjames/pseuds/patchesjames
Summary: Five moments of Niall and Bressie's relationship, as seen by others.





	If the Whole World Was Watching

**1\. Louis**

“Only have five minutes, Lou.”

“Jesus Christ, Paul, I heard you the first three times,” Louis shouted back.

She heard Paul mumble something under his breath which she was sure was something rude about her, but he was happily out of hearing range.

The last thing she wanted to do today was sit through an entire day of press about their bloody film coming out, but it was either that or sit around and wallow. Not that she ever wallowed. If Liam asked her one more time if she wanted a pint of ice cream she was going to punch him in the balls.

She was digging through the spare bunk on the bus, looking for a phone charger when she overheard her name. She started towards the back lounge to see who was still on the bus and more importantly, discussing her.

Niall’s voice came through the closed door.

“Yeah, it just happened last night.”

“Jesus,” Came a tinny sounding, far away voice. “How’s Lou taking it?”

Louis had forgotten that Niall and Harry’s interviews weren’t until later. Apparently Niall was using the extra time to Skype with Bressie, and speculate like everyone else on Eleanor breaking up with her.

“She’s been on a right tear,” Niall replied, Louis could hear a proud smile in her voice.

“Ah, poor Lou,” Bressie replied. “Them’s the breaks, kid. Remind her when you see her that she’s still my favorite.”

Louis wanted to be pissed at them for talking about her, but it was hard to stay mad at either Niall for very long. Bressie did always make a point to tell Louis she was her favorite when he came to visit Niall on the road.

“Will do,” Niall laughed. “Christ, I must be boring you with me dumb bullshit, what’s going on with you?”

Louis could hear Bressie scoff. “Ay, none of that you. Y’know I like hearing about everyone. Finish telling me about Lou; did she say what happened?”

Louis could hear Niall pause, she could picture her fidgeting with the cord of her laptop charger. Louis resumed her search for a phone charger, she’d had about enough concern and questions from her bandmates; she didn’t want to hear the word Eleanor for at least another twelve hours. She just wanted to get through this day of press, get spectacularly drunk, smoke a bowl with Zayn and then fall into a restful, Eleanor free sleep.

“I guess it just got to be too much, y’know,” Niall started, Louis could picture her shrugging. “The paparazzi, all the fans sending her mean tweets and hate mail and the like. It can be a lot, I’m sure,” Niall trailed off, sounding uncertain for some reason.

“Ni?” Bressie sounded like he was laughing a bit. “You rethinking something?”

“No!” Niall shouted. “No, not at all. You know I want this, it’s just-I don’t want-and I think-”

“Breathe, Niall.”

Louis heard Niall take a long, shuddery breath.

“I just don’t want that to happen to us,” Niall sighed. “I haven’t even told the lads yet, let alone management. I can only imagine what people are going to say. The shite they’ll say about you, they won’t leave you alone, Brez.”

And oh, oh that had been why Niall had been so cagey lately. Especially when they teased her about her hero-worship of the LIC and her long standing crush on the thirteen year her senior mountain of a man.

“Listen here, Chief.” Bressie had his no nonsense tone on. Louis had heard it before when he was playing up being Niall’s security guard and telling fans and drunks in pubs to piss off. “We’ve been through this before. I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do. I’m in this just as much as you and I don’t give a flying fuck what any tabloid has to say about me.”

“Okay, okay. I know,” Niall replied, sounding relieved. “Just, are you sure?”

“Niall Horan!”

“I’m kidding! I know you’ve been pining for me, Brez, it’s fine.”

At Bressie’s laugh, Louis decided she’d heard enough. She abandoned her search and left the bus. In her head she wanted to be happy for Niall, her best friend was finally dating the guy of her dreams, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter right now. She shouldn’t even bother charging her dead phone, it’s not like she had anyone to text or Skype.

At least she’d pissed Paul off by being ten minutes late, rather than five, she smirked to herself as she saw their tour manager waiting outside of the bus, a sour expression covering his face.

 

Two weeks later and Louis had accepted Niall’s invitation to go to Glastonbury with her and the LIC. It was the end of the day, the sun was down, Louis was drenched in sweat and the smell of stale beer and weed, and was quickly losing her buzz. She surveyed what remained of their group through half lidded eyes and noticed one monstrosity and one tiny blonde missing.

“Hey McDermott,” She nudged him, as she shook loose a cigarette from her pack. “Where’d the Nialls get to?”

“Oh, er-“And was it the light out here or did Eoghan always look that red? “I think they went in hunt of a non port-a-pot toilet.”

There was something in Eoghan’s expression Louis couldn’t read, perhaps semi-sober Louis could have, but semi-losing her buzz Louis could not. He was doing a kind of eyebrows off to the side expression, trying to tell her something. She ignored it.

She tipped her now lit cigarette towards him in a salute and went to find Niall and Bressie. “Cheers, lad.”

She ducked behind a row of port-a-potties, it was harder to see now that the sun was setting. The row was well covered by the towering portable toilet booths, dusk falling and leaving everything with a red tint. The last thing Louis needed was a reaming out because paps caught her smoking at an event full of fans, in public, again. The cascading wall of toilets shielded her for now.

After traipsing down a row of about 25 booths, she was about to give up the search, say fuck off to the imaginary Niall in her head and go in search of her own booze. Honestly, she had only gone along with Niall and her crew with the promise of getting stinking Irish drunk to mourn the loss of her relationship. Louis went to turn around and attempt to find her way back to Eoghan when she heard a strange sort of sucking sound followed by a very manly grunt.

She rounded the last corner of toilets, now walking briskly to the large moving shadow at the end of the row and almost walked smack into-

“Christ, Chief, if you could see yourself; I wanta fucking _devour_ you. Been wanting to all day.”

And oh, _oh_. Hearing nervous, beginning of relationship chatter over Skype was far, far different than seeing _this_.

This being Niall’s legs locked around Bressie’s massive middle; his garbage can lid hands grabbing handfuls of her blonde hair. He had her pushed up against a port-a-potty door (Louis made a mental note to mock Niall mercilessly for that later) and he was mainly using his pelvis to keep her upright. She was whining into his mouth and writhing against his chest, her hips seeking purchase on something. Louis quickly ducked back behind the corner she’d turned, she was able to peek around the side of a stall.

“Brez-Brez, c’mon,” Niall panted out impatiently, one hand reaching up to tangle in the sweaty hair at the back of Bressie’s head. Louis had only heard that husky register on her once before and it had been in a recording session. Bressie must have fulfilled her request because the next thing Louis saw was his head dipping towards her collarbone as Niall let out a, “hhnnnggghhhh.”

“Yeah, yeah, Chief,” was Bressie’s almost unintelligible reply as he rocked so hard against the port-a-potty’s side that it gave an alarming wobble. Niall didn’t seem to notice.

Louis felt like a literal deer in headlights; even she knew she should turn and walk away, the Liam in her head was chiding her for not already doing so. And yet she couldn’t. Perhaps it was because the loss of Eleanor made her want to see a couple who she believed could work; maybe because it was one of the hottest things she had ever seen, or maybe she was simply jealous, but either way she stood rooted to the ground.

Luckily it didn’t take too long for them to finish. After a few more thrusts, Bressie’s whole body shook and then stilled. He closed his eyes and willed his breathing to slow, lowering his nose to the crown of Niall’s head. Niall had her face hidden in his sweat-stained neck, her whole body slowly rising up and down with each of Bressie’s heaving breaths.

That had been enough, Louis had fulfilled whatever voyeur on your best friend punch card dare and was about to turn back and be on her merry way. But out of the corner of her eye she saw Bressie slowly lower Niall to the ground, Niall burying her face in his chest as she attempted to compose herself. Louis knew firsthand that Niall got practically mute when she was overwhelmed like this.

As he started to stroll away he heard Bressie’s low rumble say, “I love you, Ni.”

And that- _that_ she had not been expecting. Anyone with half a brain could have seen Niall’s hero worship crush on Bressie over the last few years. And the big man himself hadn’t been as subtle as he thought about his conflicted feelings over his younger counterpart. But love? If it had been any other two people Louis would have cursed them bitterly in her head, thinking that it was too fast and it wouldn’t work out. But in this case she didn’t.

And later that night when Niall and Bressie arrived back at the main campground separately, but both bright red, she didn’t say anything. When Niall watched Bressie with lidded eyes and a stupid, sated smile on her face for the rest of the night at the pub they ended up at, Louis didn’t say anything. She even kept her mouth shut when she noticed Niall examining a hickey that started at the top of her chest in the girls’ room.

But a week later when Niall finally shyly admitted, with her eyes to the floor but a look in them that also said ‘I dare you to fight me on this’, that she and Bressie had been dating the last few months and she was talking to management about what to do about it; Louis took her aside once Liam, Zayn, and Harry stopped shouting and making kissy noises. She poured them both a shot of whiskey, clinked her shot glass against Niall’s and said, “Congratulations, love,” with the most sincerity she could muster and a light feeling in her heart.

 

**2.Liam**

Liam was a morning person. If there was one indisputable, irrefutable (a word Lou had taught him last week) fact it was this. It was true in the same way that Zayn and Louis were _not_ morning people. They were always paired up when they deigned to stay in a hotel room instead of sleeping on the bus. Harry went through her phases; she would go three months waking up at six a.m. every morning to do yoga. And then have a going out period where she’d go to a new club every night ‘til five in the morning and follow a strict nocturnal schedule.

Niall was the exception. She had two settings; she was either a cheery, morning person like Liam or she was trying to out-sleep Louis and Zayn past two in the afternoon. That being said, Liam and Niall often shared hotel rooms on the road. Niall didn’t snore, she didn’t take forever in the bathroom, and Liam had never woken up to her attempting to do headstands at the foot of the bed and knocking over a two hundred year old antique lamp. Liam would go on record to say Niall won the award for best member of One Direction to sleep with--share a room with.

Until Tampa. By the time Liam had shuffled from the bus, to the shower, to his hotel room he was ready to collapse. When he came out from the bathroom after brushing his teeth he found Niall asleep on the bed closest to the door. She was on her back, her mouth wide open, hair a fanned out mess on the pillow behind her.

“Night, Ni,” Liam whispered before climbing into the open bed across the room.

He was just about to fall asleep, he was in that half asleep half awake state where you started to dream. He was in a park with a German Shepherd, no he was the German Shepherd and someone was throwing a ball to him; he ran after it, he was just about to get it when he jolted awake.

It took him a second, but he realized someone saying his name was what had woken him up.

“--just Liam. He’s asleep, gotta be quiet.”

Liam was about to roll over, to see if someone had come into their room to speak to Niall, but stopped when he heard-

“God, Brez, can’t stop thinking about ya. Wish you were here, wish you were _all over me_.”

Liam gulped and quickly rolled back towards the wall of the room, away from Niall. He didn’t think she’d heard or seen him.

Her voice was low, husky, _sultry_ even, but he could still make out the words just barely.

“Yeah, just like last time. Laid out on top of me like that, mhmm.”

And oh God, LIam was pretty sure he heard sheets starting to rustle.

“Yeah, I am,” Niall whispered back.

Luckily, Liam couldn’t hear what Bressie was saying on the other end, just a distinct low rumble coming down the other end of the phone.

“God when I see you, Head, I’m going to drag you to the edge of the bed, take you in my mouth and-”

Liam slammed his hands over his ears. He wished he could hum, or had his noise cancelling headphones, or could walk out of the room. He’d heard sounds coming from all of his bandmates bunks before, but this seemed different, this seemed wrong. The Louis in his head was teasing him, telling him he was the only man who wouldn’t want to listen to a girl get off right next to him.

By the time he had uncovered his ears the rustling had gotten a bit more pronounced.

“Brez, I need, I need-“Niall’s voice cut off with a smothered gasp. Liam really, really didn’t want to find out what she needed.

He should just get up, tell her that he was awake and could hear every damn thing she was saying. But he was too mortified, rooted and frozen to the spot. He didn’t want Niall, he didn’t want anyone to know that he’d overheard this conversation. Eavesdropped on his mate and her boyfriend having phone sex.

Someone must have been listening to Liam’s prayers because in the next few minutes he heard Niall murmur, “Yeah, can’t wait to see you too. Love you, Big Face.”

He heard her drop her phone onto the bedside table and shuffle down into her covers. He was sure she’d be asleep in an instant.

Liam lay awake for a while, staring at the ceiling, and willing his pesky, untimely boner to go down.

 

Two weeks later, Liam ignored the hurt look that flashed across Niall’s face when he asked Paul if he could room solo for the rest of their hotel stays. He only felt a pang of guilt, she’d really thank him if she knew why.

And when Bressie showed up later that day, visiting for the South American leg of the tour he hoped Niall’s boyfriend didn’t notice the way Liam’s neck and ears were bright red as he shook Bressie’s hand after he strolled over with a smile and a bright “Liam, lad!”

Liam returned the handshake, letting his eyes drag quickly off the ground and up to Bressie’s face. “Good to see you, Head--I-I mean Brez!”

He answered Bressie’s confused smirk by turning and walking away, shoulders hunched to his ears. Louis’ laughter followed him as he went.

 

**3\. Zayn**

Zayn was exhausted. His eyes would barely open larger than slits; he was delirious with hunger and tiredness, but he knew the order by heart now. He didn’t think he could forget it even if he tried. Louis at front, then Niall, him, Harry, and Liam. Always. Putting Harry out front would cause too much of a stir and drag too much attention to them straight away. Putting Harry and Louis anywhere near each other was a bad idea these days. Niall liked to be in the middle so she didn’t feel the crowd pushing in as much and Liam always brought up the rear, strong, and stoic in back.

Zayn was expecting to put his head down, let Paddy or Paul pull him through, and try to avoid eye contact with the fans. Before they got past the security gate, Niall turned and gave him a sleepy smile; she had a soft pair of sweats on and a hat pulled low over her head. Zayn grabbed her hand in his for a minute, squeezed it, and then let go once the doors opened up.

He was in no way expecting the madness that followed. He’d had bright lights flashed in his face before, of course he had, but this amount of flashbulbs popping in his face over and over was a new experience.

His first thought, was ‘oh shit’ and his second was ‘oh, shit, _Niall_ ’. She must have been hating this right now, getting through crowds was already difficult enough for her; he’d seen the way her breath came in short, controlled exhales as she usually clung to Basil’s--or even Bressie’s-- sleeve, her eyes trained on the floor in front of her, trusting the other person to pull her through.

Right when he shifted to see if he could catch a glimpse of her blonde hair, he felt a sea of bodies pressing in on him from both sides. He started to tip over, losing his breath, when a big, meaty hand grabbed at his shirt from nowhere and Paul was pulling him upright. Zayn sent him a look of gratitude and turned to see if he could see Harry behind him. He couldn’t.

“Go, go, go,” Paul muttered in his ear, pulling Zayn by his shirt towards the front of the building. Zayn couldn’t see in front of him anymore; it was a crowd of bodies and shirts and hands, he could only trust Paul could see the exit and the car waiting for them.

They were weaving in and out of the mix of press and fans, Zayn could finally at least see the doors to the front entrance when he was jerked to a stop.

“Hey, HEY, that’s enough!” It was Basil and he sounded murderous.

Zayn saw red as he watched a group of paparazzi trample Niall as they attempted to turn and shoot a picture of him and Harry. She slowly fell to the floor, immediately swallowed up by the swarm of bodies around her. Zayn couldn’t hear anything other than a high pitched ringing in his ears.

He immediately pushed in her direction, the only thing he could make out was her hands covering her head as she tried to avoid their feet.

“No,” Paul said. “Move, Bas has it, we gotta’ move.”

Zayn turned to shake his head at Harry and Liam. They’d both seen and they both looked more livid than he’d ever seen them. Liam’s voice echoed in his head, his response of “I’d kill them” to an interviewer asking what they’d do if they ever saw someone hurt Niall. Liam and Harry shared a look and nodded at Zayn, they’d deal with it later, somehow.

Zayn had to trust that Basil could handle it and let Paul lead him the rest of the way through the crowd. He barely even noticed when they got outside, the bodies were still as packed in as ever and he couldn’t see Niall or Basil.

“Paul, make sure I’m in Ni’s car.” Zayn mumbled in Paul’s ear, it wasn’t a request. He waited for Paul’s nod.

Three paparazzi stood between him and the car, flashing countless pictures of him.

“Zayn! When’s the wedding?”

“Zayn, Zayn! Are you excited to be in LA?”

“Planning on going to any parties?”

Zayn looked behind him and could see a shaken looking Niall being escorted into the waiting truck by Basil. She had her hat low on her head, but her hands were shaking as they gripped tightly at Basil’s arm; his other arm wrapped securely around her.

“You know what,” Zayn stepped forward. He could feel Paul’s warning squeeze on his shoulder. “You all can fuck the FUCK off and go get real jobs. You pieces of shit.”

Paul had grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into the open door of the truck before he could say anything else.

As soon as Paul had closed the door behind Zayn, Basil was yelling at the driver to, “Go, go, get out of here!”

Basil was up front with the driver, which left just Zayn and Niall in the back seat. Zayn made sure to stay as far over on his side of the car, not wanting to crowd her.

He turned to look at the girl next to him. Niall was, well, she was in bad shape. She was staring down at the shaking hands in her lap. She was resting them on top of her knees, spreading them wide. Her eyes seemed to get wider as she continued to stare, she didn’t dare blink and her eyes immediately started to redden.

Zayn watched in horror as she started to hyperventilate, her breaths coming in short, punchy breaths. Basil turned quickly in his seat, staring at her in obvious concern.

“Ni?” Zayn tried, reaching one hand slowly towards her, but not touching, not yet. “Niall?”

She made no motion that she had heard him, just continued her jerky, uncontrolled breathing.

“Niall, hey, hey it’s Zayn,” He whispered quietly. “Is it ok if I touch you?”

Niall jerked back in her seat, turning her bewildered gaze to Zayn. She still didn’t make a sound and Zayn couldn’t tell if it was promising or not that she had noticed him.

He held out his outstretched hand where she could see it and moved it towards one of her open palms.

“Okay?” He asked again.

A shudder racked her from the top of her head downwards. And after a beat, Niall slowly closed her eyes, her breathing slowing but still a bit erratic.

Zayn waited; all he could do was wait.

Niall kept her eyes closed and started to tip her head back towards the head rest, her closed eyes squinting tightly once she hit it.

She kept her eyes closed, but extended her right hand towards Zayn’s waiting palm. He took it gently in both of his hands. Her lips curled into a very slight smile.

He watched her use other hand to attempt to pull her phone out of her pocket. She fumbled with it a few times before giving up, her hands shaking too hard to be of much use.

Zayn reached over gently, making sure Niall could see his arm, and pulled her phone out of her pocket gingerly.

He held onto it and to Niall’s other hand as they drove to where they were meeting to pick up the bus. They spent the half hour drive in silence, but every now and again Niall would squeeze Zayn’s hand and he would squeeze back.

 

Zayn finally got Niall on the couch on the bus, bundled up in one of Liam’s giants hoodies. Everyone else rushed to clear out once Zayn got Niall settled. Her eyes were still wider than he’d ever seen, staring at a blank space on the wall.

“Ni?” He said gently. Her eyes bounced up to his, still terrified. He could see the way her chest was starting to heave up and down again. “Breathe, Ni.”

He gently put his hand to the back of her neck. “I’m going to put your head between your knees, okay?” It had been a year or so since his last panic attack, but he always preferred being talked through the steps, rather than being manhandled.

She closed her eyes and nodded ever so slightly. “Ok,” Zayn replied, slowly guiding her head down and into place.

“Breathe for me, babe.” He took a deep breath in and let it go, waiting for Niall to follow. She didn’t at first.

He breathed in again, making sure to be as loud as possible, holding in his lungs for a few seconds, before exhaling loudly and messily. It took two more times, before Niall slowly started to follow.

“Yeah, Ni, that’s it,” Zayn whispered. After about ten more rounds of slow breathing, Zayn guided Niall by the shoulders to sit upright.

She still looked shaken, but her cheeks were starting to regain some of their usual redness, she nodded at him tiredly.

“Okay?” He asked.

“Okay,” She said.

Zayn nodded to himself and pulled Niall’s phone out of his pocket. She typed in the passcode (0913, really Niall?) and pulled up her favorites list. He pressed the call button on the first name and placed the phone in Niall’s outstretched palm.

Although it was a bit tinny, the phone pressed tightly to Niall’s ear, her fingers now in a claw-like grip around it, Zayn could still hear Bressie’s voice when he picked up the phone on the third ring.

“Chief?” Bressie asked as soon as he’d picked up. He sounded concerned already; Zayn didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t expecting a call from Niall, or that she usually started talking straight away on the phone, or if Bressie had some sort of all powerful sixth sense when Niall was in danger. Zayn couldn’t help but think it was the latter.

“Nialler, you there?” Bressie tried again, even softer this time.

Niall let out a long, shaky breath. “Brez?” She sounded as if she didn’t know how she was suddenly talking to him, lost but hopeful at the same time.

“Yeah. Yeah it’s me, babe, what’s going on?” His voice was so soft, Zayn barely heard it.

Zayn had never heard Bressie call Niall ‘babe’ before. There was no end to the list of nicknames the two had for each other--most of the time he found them endearing, other times they made him want to vomit. However, to hear him use the term so plaintively made Zayn feel like an unwanted intruder. He’d overheard Niall quietly trying to sex-Skype Bressie in her bunk and had heard Bressie drunkenly mumbling into Niall’s hair how she was the sun, but this somehow felt like the most intimate moment he’d witnessed between the two.

“You’re not-,” Niall’s voice got stuck on a hiccough. “Gonna’ like it.”

Bressie hummed. “That’s okay, tell me anyhow.”

Niall already had some of the color back in her face. “You know how we landed in LAX today for those press shows?”

Bressie hummed again.

“Well, we got to the airport-”Zayn touched Niall’s knee gently, nodding his head towards the back lounge. He was giving her space, but she knew where he was if she needed him. She nodded up at him, her smile small and grateful.

He made his way to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. He took down two mugs (if he made Niall tea, it was only a matter of time before Louis saw and demanded her own), the Earl Grey that Niall liked, and three packets of sugar. Niall’s quiet voice a reassuring sound in the background as she explained to Bressie what had happened. He saw her fidget with the brim of her cap out of the corner of his eyes, a sure fire sign that she was feeling more like herself.

Zayn was just handing Niall her tea when she got to the end of her story. She smiled up at him, her eyes clear and bright again, and mouthed, ‘thank you.’

“THEY DID WHAT?!” Bressie’s voice roared over the phone as Zayn made his way to his bunk. He smiled to himself, Niall was definitely in better hands than his now. He was sure she’d be fine. “I’LL FOOKING KILL THEM,” was the last thing he heard from Bressie’s end of the phone before he shut the curtain on his bunk and rolled over to try to go to sleep.

And when Bressie showed up in LA the next night at the hotel they were staying at with a concerned look in his eye and a bouquet of daisies (and his heart) in his hand, Zayn wasn’t in the least bit surprised.

 

**4\. Bobby**

The second Niall started to stir, blinking slowly, and turning muzzily towards the direction of the chair to her left, Bressie was out of his seat like a shot. In one instant he was at her side, his giant hand wrapped firmly around hers, and his other hand stroking gently through the hair at the crown of her head. Even from across the room Bobby could see the terror in his eyes.

“Brez?“ Niall barely whispered, her eyes still struggling to open.

“Yeah,” Bressie whispered back. “I’m here, angel.”

Niall made a gurgling noise in the back of her throat. “Christ. I feel like bollix.”

Bressie and Bobby both barked out a laugh. Bressie looked up at Bobby then, smiling sheepishly because he obviously had forgotten that his father-in-law was in the room. Bobby could see the glossiness of tears in Bressie’s eyes. He wasn’t going to cry, at least not yet, but he was obviously shaken.

Niall had told him before about Brez’s anxiety. That sometimes he would wake Niall in the middle of the night to make sure she was still breathing. Of never leaving the house without a fully charged phone. Of breaking down a few nights before their wedding, saying he didn’t know what he’d do if anything ever happened to her. Bobby knew that this surgery had put both Niall and her husband through the ringer. He could see it in the panicked look in Bressie’s eyes and the way he was clinging to her hand.

“Can we leave soon?” Niall asked hopefully, blue eyes lifting to meet Bressie’s.

“They said to wait until you were up and aware; the doctor also wants to talk to us about after care steps and PT.” Bobby had no doubt that Bressie would have the sheet of after-care instructions memorized by the end of the day. “But if you want to go back to sleep, you can. I know the anesthesia always knocks me on my ass.”

“No,” Niall responded, attempting to push up on her elbows as she spoke. Bressie sent her a glare and she lowered herself back down with a huff. “I want to go home.”

“Well, we’ll see what the doctor says,” Bressie continued, he had one of Niall’s hands in both of his now and was patting one over and over in either a soothing or nervous gesture. Even though it was a ‘routine’ surgery Bobby had seen Bressie in the waiting room. He could tell when the boy- _the man_ -was sitting there with his eyes closed and his hands clasped in front of him that he’d been praying the entire time. When the doctor had come out and explained that the surgery had been ‘successful, but more invasive than originally planned’ Brez had gone as white as a sheet. Bobby thought he might have punched the doctor in the face right then and there.

“Why don’t I go and find the doctor and bring him up?” Bobby offered, wanting to give the two of them a moment.

Two sets of grateful eyes set on him from across the room.

 

Bobby ended up driving home. Bressie was a huge mass in the backset; Niall had her head in his lap and her left leg stretched out and as still as possible. She had grumbled about being taken out of the hospital in a wheelchair, but had silenced at the look in Bressie’s eyes. Bressie had stowed her crutches carefully in the trunk and was now running his hand through her hair as she closed her eyes. The anesthesia still hadn’t fully worn off; Niall was asleep as soon as Bobby had the car out of the parking lot. Bobby took his eyes off the rear view mirror and Bressie’s awestruck expression as he stared down at his daughter.

When they got to the house, Bressie nudged Niall gently awake and let Niall do most of the work to get out of the car. She hopped down from the car on one leg, with Bressie holding both of his hands out to balance her. He slung her arm around his broad back and started walking towards the house slowly, letting her hop along, pausing after each step.

Bobby knew Bressie could easily pick her up (most likely one handed) and carry her inside, but he also knew the fit Niall would pitch if she wasn’t allowed to do this on her own.

Bressie finally got her up to the front door. Niall was already starting to fade again, resting her head on Bressie’s shoulder with her eyes closed. Bressie struggled to pull his keys out of his pocket as he supported Niall with the other arm. He made a frustrated sound in his throat, before Bobby swooped forward and grabbed the keys out of his hand.

“I got it,” He replied to Bressie’s thankful look.

Once he had the door open, Bressie had seemingly had enough. He easily lifted Niall into his arms and strode over to the couch. She was too out of it to protest.

Bobby noticed that their couch had been covered in the comforter from their bed, had two pillows at the head, and a few cushions at the end. On their coffee table Bobby saw Niall’s laptop, tablet, and songwriting notebook. Her acoustic guitar was on a stand directly next to the couch. They had had to get up to leave for the surgery at four thirty in the morning, Bobby wouldn’t have been surprised if Bressie hadn’t slept at all and had instead spent the night readying the house. It looked spotless and there was nothing strewn about, not one thing to trip over or bump into,

Bobby watched as Bressie gently lowered his daughter down onto the couch, carefully arranging pillows and blankets so that she ended up with two pillows under her left knee and one at the end of her foot to elevate it. She sunk against the pillows, making a sleepy, content sound in the back of her throat. Bressie stood there, looking down at her, seemingly at a loss for what else he could do to help her in that moment.

“Hey,” Bobby said gently, drawing Bressie’s gaze. “Why don’t I make us some pancakes?”

Bressie nodded, shooting him a tilted smile.

Bobby made sure to turn on the kettle before anything, pulling down three mugs from their cabinet. He hadn’t been to their house in London since he had helped them move in, but unsurprisingly every item he needed could be found in the same places as they were in Niall’s old flat. He laughed to himself, his eyes catching on the picture from his daughter’s wedding on the wall. This place was starting to pull together, starting to become a home.

As he started making the batter he could hear Niall’s voice quietly from the other room.

“Brez?”

“Hmm,” He hummed back at her.

“Where’s my da?” She sounded barely awake, her voice slurring gently.

“He’s making us chocolate chip pancakes,” Bressie replied, the smile evident in his voice. Bobby could only image that Niall had told him about how Bobby would always make her chocolate chip pancakes anytime she’d been sick growing up.

“Mmm, thank God,” Niall replied.

Bobby was putting the first finished pancake onto a plate when he heard Niall’s voice again.

“Brez?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re both here,” She mumbled lowly, seemingly to herself.

“Me too, love, me too.”

 

**5\. Harry**

“Four more, Horan, give me four more!” Harry overheard Mark yell as she walked past the gym at the hotel they were staying at.

She heard Niall grunt and mutter, “Don’t you mean Horan-Breslin?”

“What?” Mark paused, sounding confused. “Ni, y’alright?” It was one thing for their inner circle on the tour to know about Niall and Bressie on a strictly need to know basis, but to say it out loud like that at a public hotel was something everyone in the crew was smart enough not to do.

“Forget it Mark, I’m done.”

“Afraid not, Miss!” Mark put on a chipper sounding voice. “Promised your PT I’d squeak at least 15 reps out of you today.”

“I said I’m done, Mark!” Niall shouted back. Harry heard two dumbbells clatter to the ground. Niall almost never raised her voice, and never to Mark.

Niall rounded the corner in a huff, stomping her feet as she went. Her face was beet red as she used the sleeve of her t-shirt to wipe off her sweaty forehead. She almost walked straight into Harry, but caught herself in time.

“What is it, Haz?” She sighed; she didn’t have the same frustrated tone she’d had with Mark, but she sounded tired-weary even. She dropped her arms and it was as if her strings had been cut.

“Paul told me to come round you up for our interviews.” Harry replied, she reached out a hand and gently tugged Niall by the elbow behind her. Niall didn’t protest.

Harry waited until they had rounded four corners, climbed two flights of stairs, her hotel room door shut firmly behind her, and Niall settled on the bed before asking. “You alright, babe?”

Niall sighed again, a loud exhale from her nose and flopped backwards onto the bed. Harry slowly laid herself down next to her, turning on her side so she could face Niall whose eyes were closed.

“It’s nothing, I’m being stupid,” Niall mumbled to herself. “I should go apologize to Mark.”

Harry smiled while Niall couldn’t see. She pulled away the hand Niall had rubbing over her face and held onto it.

“Apologize to Mark later,” Harry nudged her knee against Niall’s thigh. “Tell me.”

“It’s just-” Niall started and then let out an irritated little huff. “I haven’t seen Bressie in two months.”

She locked her huge, blue eyes on Harry; she looked so sad and plaintive. Harry made a slow ‘go on’ gesture with her hand.

“When I was home, for me knee surgery like, he was there with me every day. It was the longest amount of time we were both home at the same time. We bought that big old house in London and we barely even live in it together.”

Harry hummed thoughtfully, she started rubbing slow circles with her thumb against Niall’s palm.

“And normally it wouldn’t bug me so much, but it was nice y’know? Being home like that, even if it was for something dumb.”

Harry pinched the skin at Niall’s wrist at that.

“It’s not dumb,” Harry said slowly, she waited a beat and glanced over. “Is that all?”

Niall shrugged. “He’s got that new job now, filming and all. And I don’t want to be the nagging fucking wife, but it’s like he’s got no free time. And I’m happy for him, honest,” Niall sounded like she would swear it in a court of law and write it in her blood if anyone asked. “I don’t know, it’s just been rough is all. And always having to hide everything...it’s just hard.” She closed her eyes as her voice trailed off. She had an unhappy expression on her face but her shoulders had lost a bit of their tenseness and her body seemed to sink into the mattress further. And she’d never admit it to anyone, but Harry was pretty sure she saw a tear or two roll down Niall’s face.

She squeezed Niall’s hand one last time before letting it go. Harry laid on the bed next to Niall until she was almost all the way asleep.

Harry leaned over and dropped a kiss onto Niall’s freckly forehead.

“It’s not dumb and I wish you’d talk to one of us when you’re feeling this way.”

Niall opened her eyes slowly. She gave Harry an apologetic, watery smile and nodded her head. Harry kissed the back of Niall’s hand and left her to take a nap.

 

Harry was a terrible liar. The thought ran consistently through her head all week. All week when she’d see Niall look at her phone and sigh to herself. When she checked and re-checked the flight itinerary for the third time. When she made sure no one borrowed her phone lest they see her text history. She knew in the end it would all be worth it but she still felt as if she turned a bit squirmy and red every time Niall looked her way, as if she knew Harry was hiding something.

Harry could tell that Niall had still been a bit down since her confession in the hotel room, but before their Amsterdam show she was in good spirits. Her megawatt smile was a bit more subdued than usual, but she still lit up at the bright orange custom jersey, Liam and she happily donning them before the start of the show.

Just a few more hours of lying for Harry and she knew it would all be worth it.

 

Something was wrong. Harry could tell, she could feel it in the air--or she could see Louis striding over to Niall with a concerned look on her face out of the corner of her eye. Black met orange and Harry saw Niall point down at her knee with a pained expression on her face.

They ignored it, for now. Niall had had problems with her knee on stage in the past (thanks, Liam) and the rest of them knew how annoyed she got when they made a fuss over it--over her. Harry ignored it, but he still turned to look at Niall, watching her with a concerned look as she bent down to dig her thumbs into the flesh surrounding her knee. She ignored it, but took the time to fling a bra that had fallen on stage back into the crowd so it wasn’t laying in their paths. Liam ignored it too, Harry watched him nudge a toy that had made its way onto the stage into the crowd with his foot. And Harry and Liam ignored it together as they didn’t look at Niall directly, didn’t pull her aside and ask ‘are you okay’, but orbited a little more closely to her, forming a small protective shield.

‘Two more songs’ Harry was thinking over and over in her head, trying to telepathically communicate it to the girl struggling in front of her. When Niall came back down the ramp with her guitar over her head, Harry couldn’t help but think it looked a bit heavier on her than usual. Two more songs. Harry had to give her props, even though her expression was less than thrilled as she struggled to move, her voice sounded as clear and sure as always. She was their Niall, fearless, they didn’t expect anything less of her.

She stayed close to Louis towards the end of the show, Harry thought this wise, Louis would murder anyone that dared throw anything Niall’s way now.

And then blessedly, finally, the show was over. The last few notes rung out as Harry waved and bowed her way over to their fans, not thinking she could ever express her gratitude as clearly as she wanted to. The second she rose from her bow, she was off. Sprinting up the ramp behind a slow moving Niall. Making sure to gently put her hand on Niall’s lower back to support her.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Harry whispered to her. Her voice was drowned out as Louis, Zayn, and Liam came stampeding up behind them.

Zayn quickly took over, squeezing Niall by the shoulder. “You’re a fucking legend, mate.”

Niall didn’t answer any of them as she continued to slowly struggled towards the backstage. Her face was completely dejected, not understanding why their fans thought it necessary to chuck things at them. And probably cursing her luck that of all the things to be thrown something would hit her directly in the knee she’d had surgery on only months before.

She was starting darkly at the ground and started to tug her cordless mic out from behind her neck, not paying attention to where she was going.

“Chief!”

Bressie rounded the corner as quickly as he could, sprinting to a stop in front of their rag tag group.

“I can’t fecking believe it, who the fuck throws something at someone who only just had _major surgery_ months ago! I swear to fucking God, I’ll kill them. No one did that in my day when we went to concerts. I saw the whole thing I wanted to go out there and rip that girl’s head off. Christ, I’m sorry, are you okay-how are you feeling?”

Niall stood there, her blue eyes wide with shock and glossed over with tears of pain. Sweat was dripping from her hairline onto her face and she was staring up at Bressie like he was someone she’d never seen before.

Bressie had crouched down a bit, his brown eyes pinched and concerned as he stared into Niall’s face, his gaze fierce like he wanted to simultaneously rip everyone in the crowds head off and take Niall somewhere far away where no one could ever hurt her.

“Chief?” He tried again, more softly this time as Niall still hadn’t said anything; was just standing there with her chest heaving and that deer in the headlights look in her eyes.

Louis and Zayn exchanged a look; Harry was pretty sure they were wondering if they should immediately go call for a medic. Harry had the urge to push Niall and Bressie together and shout ‘Now, kiss’ at them.

Just when Harry was about to finally say something Niall launched herself at the man in front of her. For someone with an out of commission knee, she didn’t seem to have any problem wrapping her arms around her husband’s neck and burying her head in his shoulder.

Luckily Bressie didn’t miss a beat, his face went quickly from surprise to a small, soft look as he caught Niall’s thighs gently in his giant hands.

“Big F-face,” They heard Niall mutter into Bressie’s neck. Her shoulders started to shake up and down as she sobbed into the juncture where Bressie’s neck met his shoulder.

Liam, Louis, and Zayn each shared a concerned look with each other, they hadn’t seen Niall come apart like this in sometime. She would get teary every now and again but she was usually just their Niall: carefree, but stoic. Silent and Irish about her feelings when she felt she should be.

Harry leaned back against whoever was closest--Liam--with a content expression on her face. It was good for them all to fall apart now and again. Harry knew Niall was exhausted from the tour, the stress of physical therapy, missing her husband, keeping a massive secret, and now dealing with an injury. He had known this was exactly what she had needed.

As Bressie turned and walked away with Niall still in his arms, no doubt looking for a quiet corner to examine her knee in and make sure she was okay, Harry couldn’t help but think again, that they should all fall apart now and again. At least Niall had Bressie to put her back together.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Nessie Summer Fanwork Fest. This is the first time I've written in quite some time (and it shows) but Nessie was too good to pass up. This is basically a five times others looked at their relationship from the outside (and saw they were the perfect couple) fic. This is incredibly self-indulgent and Niall, Louis, and Harry are girls because we need more 1D girls in our lives.


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